by Jack Tunney
Rosie shrugged. “Normally you wouldn’t be, but you’re part of my corner. They can’t say no to that.”
They were out on Ritchie Highway now and picking up speed back toward Baltimore. It was still two hours until the first fight of the evening, but she had to be there for prep and last-minute instruction. Felix promised they would train up until the final minute, and after that it would be in Rosie’s hands alone.
“I never tell Daddy what you’re doing,” Jess said.
“Does he ask?”
“All the time. And I hear him yelling on the phone to somebody about how you’re doing something bad. But I don’t think it’s bad. I’d tell him, but I don’t think he’ll listen.”
“You’re probably right,” Rosie said.
“Are you going to get hurt tonight?”
Rosie weighed her answer. There was the softball and there was the truth. The softball did not seem fair. “I might,” she said at last.
“I hope you don’t. You’ve been working so hard.”
“People get hurt in fights,” Rosie said. “That’s why you shouldn’t do it.”
“But you do it.”
“I’m different. I’m a grown up and I can make that kind of decision. And I never fight anyone outside the cage. I never would unless someone threatened me or threatened you. Fighting’s not the answer.”
Jess nodded sagely. “Then why do it at all?”
Again Rosie thought. Her answer was slower to come this time. “Sometimes you do things because you have to do them. I never knew it, but this is something I have to do. I’m a fighter and I belong where the fighting is.”
“I understand.”
“Do you?” Rosie asked.
“I think so. It’s like some people have to play the grand piano or some people become doctors.”
“Yeah, it’s like that,” Rosie said. “You know, you’re a pretty smart kid.”
“I have a smart Mommy.”
Rosie smiled and reached across to take Jess’ hand. “Just remember you said that when you’re sixteen and I tell you not to stay out late.”
“Huh?”
“Never mind. You want to listen to some music before we get there?”
“Yeah. I have a Raffi CD my friend Lisa lent me.”
“Then let’s listen to Raffi,” Rosie said.
It was not fight music, but it would have to do.
ROUND 18
“This is it,” Felix told her. “This is what it’s all about.”
She sat in the dressing room at the end of the table, her gloved hands resting on her knees. The tightness of the wraps was a comfort. They’d given her a spray of Afrin in each nostril to ensure she could breathe freely. Jess sat in the corner watching, her little shoulders swathed in a Ground Control MMA jacket. Tina sat next to her with apprehension written across her face.
Rosie was half-aware of the fight happening on the television. Two men were tangled up on the ground, arms and legs entwined in a death struggle for prime position. The crowd noise ebbed and flowed, carried down chilly concrete halls to crash weakly against the dressing room door.
Felix looked at the television. “The fight’s almost over. You got fifteen minutes, tops.”
“It’s going to be all right,” Rosie said.
“Can I tell you something?” Felix asked.
“What?”
“Times like these, I really want a drink.”
Rosie put her hand out and Felix took it. She squeezed him and offered a thin smile. “You and me both,” she said.
“Today’s my sixteenth anniversary,” Felix said. “Sixteen years sober.”
“Congratulations. Where’s your chip?”
Felix looked sheepish. “I didn’t go to a meeting today. I was too nervous.”
“We’ll go together tomorrow,” Rosie said.
“That’s a deal.”
They fell silent and there was only the sound of faraway cheering and the faint buzz of the fluorescent bulbs overhead. On the screen the fight went to a decision. Both fighters looked defeated. It had been a hard one.
After a few minutes there was a knock on the door and one of the Demolition staff poked his head in. “You’re up.”
Rosie stood. Felix hugged her and then Tina hugged her. When they stepped away, Jess rushed in and put her arms around Rosie’s waist and squeezed for all she was worth. “You can do it, Mommy.”
“I’m going to try.”
The walk never seemed so long as it did now, and they emerged into a sea of noise. The cage announcer called her Rosie the Ripper. The rituals were observed at cage-side. They let her in.
Rosie danced left and right to warm her legs up as the announcer called Janiya to the cage. Janiya’s corner seemed more crowded than usual, or perhaps it was only Rosie’s imagination. When Janiya came through the door onto the canvas, her eyes were steel.
She backed against the fence. Felix touched her shoulder through the links. “She doesn’t respect you. She thinks you’re not good enough. She thinks she can run right over you. Show her she’s wrong!”
Perhaps Felix didn’t see her nod, but it didn’t matter anymore. The referee regarded both of them before striding to the center of the cage. He called them to attention. Rosie bounced on the balls of her feet. The command came.
Janiya stepped slowly forward and extended her glove almost sleepily. No respect, Rosie thought as she stepped up to the center and they touched.
Immediately Janiya moved. In one moment she was languid, relaxed, and in the next moment she was on Rosie with terrible purpose. A jab shot out that caught Rosie without a defense, followed by a second and a hook that rattled Rosie’s brain. She backpedaled furiously, trying to keep herself off the fence, Janiya circling in behind a torrent of punches that came from every direction.
Rosie soaked up a dozen strikes in eight seconds before she loosed one of her own. Janiya blocked it aside, then snapped back as Rosie landed a combination that slipped between Janiya’s gloves to find its mark. With the other woman’s forward motion arrested, Rosie shot a kick into Janiya’s front leg and connected solidly.
The respite was an illusion. Janiya surged into attack, assailing Rosie like a whirlwind, staggering Rosie on her feet with the power of her strikes. Rosie tried to duck away, but Janiya caught her in a hug and threw her bodily against the fence before striking to the inside at close range.
Rosie took the punishment and pushed back, forcing Janiya to fall away and putting some light between them. Rosie aimed a strong right at Janiya’s head and missed by inches, only to take a punch to the face that sent her to the mat.
She scrambled to get up, but Janiya pounced. Rosie threw her legs up to catch Janiya in them, latching on and holding on while Janiya pressed. Her body was levered off the mat and she was stacked, shoulders pressed hard to the canvas. She moved, but she could not close the triangle on Janiya.
Janiya was at arm’s length and couldn’t bring punches to bear. She reared up and Rosie kicked her back. For a second they were parted and it was enough for Rosie to roll backward and find her feet again, swaying for a moment as her head came up.
A punch slammed her down again. This time Janiya avoided the trap of Rosie’s legs and went immediately for side control. They jammed up against the fence, the links digging into Rosie’s shoulder, and Janiya tried to pull her clear for a better position. Rosie threw punches into the side of Janiya’s head, forcing the woman down.
Neither one could strike the way they wanted. Janiya tried to mount, but Rosie’s leverage against the cage was enough to keep her clear. They struggled on the mat, breath exploding from each of them in sharp bursts. The metal links at Rosie’s shoulder felt as though they were cutting her, though she knew they weren’t.
The referee hovered over them. “Come on, ladies,” he said. “Work.”
Rosie could hear Felix shouting and Janiya’s corner shouting, but she paid attention to neither. She tried to turn her body, wedging herself more comp
letely against the fence, but there was no movement to be had.
“Okay, stand it up,” the referee commanded. “Come on, break it up. Let’s move.”
Rosie had to use the cage for support as she made her feet. Janiya backed off at the referee’s behest. The man was in Rosie’s face, asking if she was okay to continue. Rosie only nodded, too breathless for words.
“All right, do it,” the referee said, and he stepped out of the way.
Janiya moved in and Rosie slugged her with all the power she could put behind her left hand. The blow landed squarely and a fine spray of sweat droplets flung from her and danced briefly in the air before vanishing. Rosie wound up with a right and then another left, looking to chain together a combination that would drive Janiya back. She almost didn’t hear the bell.
The fighters retreated to their corners. Danny and Felix were there with the stool and cutman’s gear. Rosie ignored them and sought out Jess beyond the cage. She saw the little girl in the close seats beside Tina. Rosie pointed. Jess pointed back.
“Sit down,” Felix ordered. “Get some water. Let’s have a look at you. Man, she’s lumping you up. Don’t look in the mirror tomorrow.”
“How am I doing?” Rosie asked. She let Danny take her mouthguard out and she accepted a squirt of water, which she sloshed and spit out.
“You lost the round for sure. But you’re still standing! You were looking good at the end there. Keep putting those combinations together and keep her from running you over.”
Rosie nodded. She let Danny put her mouthguard back in place. “She’s faster than me.”
“She is fast, and she is strong, but you’re tougher than she is. You can take it. Now make it happen!”
Then they were gone and it was Rosie and Janiya in the cage alone again. The bell sounded. They closed.
She couldn’t stop Janiya’s fists. They came quickly and in sharp succession, rolling Rosie around ahead of them. Rosie returned fire, peppering Janiya with blows. She could see the welts on Janiya’s face. Something was happening. She wasn’t throwing punches into the wind.
Janiya began to threaten her with kicks, bringing up her leg, but not following through. She stayed behind a screen of strikes, trading punches with Rosie. Rosie felt like she was chipping at stone.
The real kick came when she didn’t expect it. A hard left sent her staggering and a follow-up right threw her back the other direction. She corrected her balance in time to see the roundhouse shot sweeping toward her and then it landed.
The kick knocked the guard clear from Rosie’s mouth and she twirled in a circle before collapsing onto her rear in the middle of the cage. The arena spun and tilted and there was a roaring in her ears on top of the screams of the crowd. Janiya made to fall on her, but the referee was there, standing up between them, calling for a new mouthguard. Janiya backed off.
The door opened and Felix handed a mouthguard to her. He said nothing, but his grim face was enough. Rosie put the guard in place and turned back to the fight.
They were released and Janiya advanced. She swung and missed and in that lingering instant she was completely open. Rosie put her shoulder and hips behind a haymaker right and tried to take Janiya’s head off.
Janiya tottered backward as the fresh cut under her eye swelled with blood. She touched her cheek and saw the red on her fingers. Her roar of anger and pain was eaten by the sudden, wild frenzy of the mob in the arena.
Rosie came on, aiming for the cut, throwing hard punches that buffeted Janiya and sent her onto her back foot. Now Janiya was backing away quickly, making room for Rosie’s advance, parrying as best she could and absorbing the rest. Blood streamed down Janiya’s face.
The retreat stopped and Janiya laid a low kick into Rosie’s leg that nearly tumbled her. They came to a standstill and went to war, back and forth punches flinging between them until Rosie’s arms felt like cement and the bell rung again.
“You cut her!” Felix shouted into her face when she was back in the corner. “She’s flesh and blood and now everybody knows it! This round was yours for sure.”
“I’m gassing,” Rosie said.
“No, you’re not. You’re just getting started. Take it to her, Rosie! You’re the Ripper! You’re the Ripper!”
Round three brought them together again in a collision of crippling punches. They clinched for the first time and Janiya tried to lever Rosie’s face into her rising knees. Rosie slipped from Janiya’s grasp and landed a cross that opened the cut all over again.
Janiya went low and the takedown was too quick for Rosie to sprawl against. Rosie skidded hard on impact with the mat. Janiya was over her, digging in with her toes to force her weight against Rosie.
“Get off the ground!” Felix screamed. In her own head, the alarms jangled.
She was too slow to deny side control, but got a hand to the inside of Janiya’s left as she went for the crossface. She grasped Janiya’s wrist with her other hand and dragged the arm across as Janiya jerked to free herself. Rosie brought her inside hand over the top to pull Janiya’s arm tightly to her chest.
The alarms quieted. Rosie knew what to do. She hipped up and pushed with every ounce of strength until Janiya gave way. They rolled with Rosie still holding fast to Janiya’s arm until she was on top. She brought her legs around, straddling Janiya’s head. It happened like a dream, the movements coming together after a thousand hours of drill after drill.
Janiya tried to pop her hips and twist, but Rosie grabbed her leg and then fell away with leg and arm under her control. Immediately her hips were underneath Janiya’s elbow joint, straightening the arm into a bar.
She held on. Janiya squirmed with her free leg, thrashing out an escape, but Rosie’s grip was locked in. She put pressure on the joint, blinded by the sweat in her eyes, and then the tap came, urgently against her leg.
The arena exploded. Rosie let Janiya slip away. As she got to her feet, all the energy left her and when Felix rushed to her side she fell into his arms and let him hold her up.
Felix and Tina closed around her and they made a triangle, hugging and smiling as Felix shouted in Rosie’s ear things she didn’t understand. “Where’s Jess?” Rosie said instead. “Where’s Jess?”
The cage announcer was on the steps outside the fence when Jess pushed past him and ran onto the mat. She found a space between Felix and Tina and attached herself to Rosie’s side.
Rosie’s eyes wandered out past the cage, into the front row of spectators. All of them were standing up, clapping their hands and cheering. All strangers. All but one.
Judge Crowe stood in the company of a much younger woman who might have been his daughter. He was with the rest of them, clapping and yelling things no one could hear in the din. Rosie could not find the strength to be horrified. She put a hand on Jess’ head and laughed and laughed into the maelstrom of the crowd’s applause.
EPILOGUE
Felix and Tina waited with Rosie outside the judge’s chambers. Rosie was dressed in her best clothes again, but she knew she looked terrible, all bruises and scrapes. Even spending a little extra money on a haircut and style could not conceal what Janiya had put her though.
When her attorney saw the state of her, he shook his head. “For God’s sake, Rosie. I’m doing everything I can, and you come in looking like this?”
“Hey, man,” Felix said, “these are badges of honor.”
“Whatever you say. Couldn’t you at least have sprung for a little makeup to cover up the worst of it?”
“I’m not afraid anymore,” Rosie said. “They can take me as I am.”
“Here they come,” Hobbs said.
Chris and his attorney advanced up the hallway in close conversation. When they spotted Rosie, they stopped and their talk turned urgent. Chris used his hands a great deal when he was agitated and now his hands flew. He pointed at Rosie three different times and made some argument with urgency.
Finally they came the last of the distance. “Mr. Hobbs,” Mr. Da
vis said. “Ms. Bratton.”
“Mr. Davis,” Rosie said.
“You’ve brought some friends.”
“They aren’t coming in with me,” Rosie said.
“Of course not. I think we all want to put our best foot forward today.”
Rosie heard the sound of Judge Crowe’s hard-soled shoes on the tile before he appeared at the far end of the hall. Unlike in meetings before, this time he wore his courtroom attire. He checked his watch as he approached and then gave them all a sour eye. “You’re early,” he said.
“We’re just anxious to hear your decision, your honor,” Hobbs said.
“Well, since you’re all here, you may as well come inside.”
The judge glanced at Rosie, but this time his expression was unreadable. She hadn’t seen him since the fight, and then only briefly. Before she had even left the cage, he and his companion were gone from their seats.
“Good luck,” Felix told Rosie.
“It’s gonna be all right,” Tina said.
“I’ll see you,” Rosie said, and she followed everyone in.
Inside the judge’s chambers, Crowe took time to remove his robes and hang them up in the small closet. He took time to adjust the blinds in the window to some exacting degree while attorneys and clients took their seats. Only then did he take a seat and only then did he move the thick folder of the case onto his blotter for examination.
He did not open the folder at first, but regarded Rosie and Chris in turn. “I suppose you both want me to cut to the chase.”
“Yes, your honor,” Chris said.
“I have something to say first.”
“Of course, your honor,” Davis said. “Whatever you prefer.”
“Thank you,” Judge Crowe said acidly.
Rosie waited with her hands in her lap. She felt very calm, as though the dream of the final moments in her match with Janiya were still going on and she had done this a thousand times before.
“It is the contention of the primary custodial parent in this case that Ms. Bratton is an unsuitable candidate for primary custody because of her past history of alcoholism,” Crowe said. “It is also the contention of the primary custodial parent that Ms. Bratton is unsuitable for standard visitation arrangements because of her involved with a mixed martial arts organization. Am I correct on both counts?”
